


They should have seen it coming

by Raexneol



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: I apologize in advance, M/M, Mavin, also there is fluff, but i didnt, i could have made this really sad, this is my first smut ever okay, we have already established that i am not good at the sexy times, youre welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raexneol/pseuds/Raexneol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Gavin meet on Michael's first day at the Achievement Hunter office. It all just sort of goes downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They should have seen it coming

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt that an anon gave me. It sort of got out of hand.
> 
> "What if Gavin started working in the Achievement Hunter office before Michael?"

They should have seen it coming.

 

Gavin, they had learned over the past few months, was an insufferable troll, especially to those from whom he could get a strong reaction.

 

Michael’s entire life was a series of strong reactions. He’d been brought to Austin specifically for his Rage Quit videos, and had been undergoing vigorous interviews all day (Geoff had even made him rage at a stupid goddamned game called QWOP earlier). He’d passed them with flying colors as far as they were concerned, and the final ‘interview’ they wanted to conduct was to stick him in a group play of some game with the other Achievement Hunters.

 

After a brief discussion, the game was chosen: Black Ops: Zombies.

 

All started off well until Gavin, unable to rouse an appropriate response from Jack or Geoff, decided to focus his devious attentions on the new guy.

 

“I’m not a zombie, asshole,” Michael grumbled into his mic, glaring at the screen as he waited to respawn.

 

“Whoops. Sorry there, mate,” Gavin chortled, not sounding a bit sorry at all. The redhead grunted but carried on, laying out another handful of zombies before he was blown to hell by an ‘errant’ grenade. He seethed quietly for a moment before snapping, “Fucking _stop it_ you British asshole—what is your goddamned name, I’m too fucking pissed off to remember it right now cocksucker—“

 

“Gavin,” Jack supplied helpfully, as Gavin was too busy laughing to respond.

 

“Gavin— _fuck you_ , Gavin, where the fuck are you, I’m about to fucking scatter your body all over this goddamned map—Swiss fucking _cheese_ , where the hell are you shooting me from you piece of shit?!”

 

The blond just barely managed to gasp, “Bye, Michael,” through his laughter before he delivered a fatal headshot just as Michael found his hiding place.

 

An enraged scream followed the sound of his character’s death. Jack and Geoff whirled around when they heard a loud, painful-sounding crash to find the other two struggling on the ground. Gavin’s water bottle was held fast in Michael’s hand as he doused the Brit, trying to stay angry as he shouted obscenities but grinning all the while as Gavin bucked against the limbs pinning him down. Before too long, the two were red-faced from laughing, the water bottle abandoned entirely as both tried to find sensitive tickle-spots to exploit.

 

By the end of the day, Dickie Bitch and Bickie Ditch were bickering playfully and they all felt as though Michael had been a part of the team for years.

 

 

They should have seen it coming.

 

They were, after all, putting themselves up on the internet, where fandoms ran rampant and anything that _could_ be shipped _was_. Two attractive men calling one another pet names, flirting non-stop, teaming up for every Let’s Play… Fans would speculate, and speculate they did.

 

‘Mavin’ was laughed off, encouraged, played up—because why the hell not? It got them views, got them fans, got them attention, and on a field as huge as the internet, any publicity was happily accepted.

 

So they kept it up, and nobody noticed as the looks between the two became softer, or as the pet names were said with more affection, or when the comments became quiet, private, intimate.

 

Because it was all for the viewers.

 

* * *

 

 

They should have seen it coming.

 

They could see it in their eyes, every once in a while, the way they looked at one another when they thought no one was watching them, the whispered conversations during Let’s Plays that weren’t heard until several listens later, the teasing little tweets that they reserved only for one another.

 

So really, they should have seen it coming from a mile away.

 

They didn’t, though, until it was right in front of them.

 

Jack and Ryan were on their way back from lunch, several minutes early because of a surprisingly slim lunch rush at their restaurant of choice (the Wendy’s down the road). Jack, who was in the lead, found himself quite surprised when he pushed at the AH office door only for it to hold fast.

 

“Is it locked?” Ryan asked, trying the knob for himself.

 

“Yeah. Weird, I thought Michael and Gavin stayed behind to work,” Jack said, fishing his set of keys out of his pocket.

 

“They must have decided to go. I can’t blame them—it must take a lot to fuel that much rage. Or that much stupid.”

 

Jack snorted as he finally found the key and pushed the door open, and both paused when they realized that Michael and Gavin were in there, seated at their desks with headphones on, seemingly hard at work.

 

“Oh, you guys are in here,” Ryan said. Michael’s head jerked up and he tugged his headphones off, giving the two a confused look.

 

“What?” he asked, punching Gavin in the arm. The Brit jumped and fumbled with his headphones, dropping them in his haste to get them off.

 

“Oh, hey guys!” Gavin said, giving them a grin that seemed, in Ryan’s humble opinion, a bit guilty.

 

“Hey. Why was the door locked?” Jack asked, tossing his keys onto his desk as Michael and Gavin turned to one another, each giving the other a puzzled look and a shrug that would have been convincing if Gavin hadn’t suddenly turned three shades redder.

 

“It was locked?” Michael asked. Gavin merely turned back to his computer, giving another silent shrug. For a moment, Michael was pretty sure they would get away with the lie—after all, the doors were shitty and the locks had stuck once or twice before. But Ryan was an observant motherfucker, and the moment his eyes zeroed in on Gavin, the redhead nearly cursed aloud.

 

Gavin, whose shirt was a bit stretched out and hiked up around the hem.

 

Gavin, whose hair was quite a bit more disheveled than it had been an hour ago.

 

Gavin, whose lips were still a bit swollen and bruised.

 

And, perhaps the most damning—“Hey, Gavin, has your shirt been on inside-out all day?”

 

The blond blushed to the tips of his ears, his head snapping down to see that, yes, it was in fact on inside out now.

 

“Bloody hell,” he said weakly, “that’s what I get for dressing in the dark, I suppose.”

 

There was a noticeable light of panic in Michael’s eyes now as he stared Gavin down, his laugh a bit too forced as he said, “Good going, dumbass.”

 

But Jack and Ryan were no fools, and the knowing look that passed between them made the other two fidget sheepishly. Still, they were anything but gossips, and though they never said a word about their accidental discovery, they made very sure to knock on the office door before entering from then on, especially if they knew that Michael and Gavin were in there alone.

 

* * *

 

They should have seen it coming.

 

After all, it was only a small jump from making out in the office to going home together, but Ray, who knew nothing of the former, had no reason to suspect anything less than innocent from the latter.

 

So when Gavin and Michael left together one night, leaving Michael’s phone behind, Ray offered to take it to him, waving off Ryan’s and Jack’s offers with a smile and a, “Nah, really, it’s no problem. Anyway, if they’re playing something I’d love to take the opportunity to whoop Michael’s ass in the comfort of his own home.”

 

Jack gave up, but Ryan was not so easily swayed. “No, really, Ray, trust me. I have to get something from Michael anyway, it’s not a big—“

 

“I can grab it for you. I’m on my way out the door, anyway; you’re still busy. Seriously, dude, it’s not an inconvenience. Thanks, though.”

 

Before either of them could protest, Ray was out the door, and Jack just sighed as he leaned back in his chair, musing, “Maybe they won’t be—“

 

“No, they definitely will be,” Ryan muttered, shaking his head and chuckling a bit to himself.

 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

 

(LLLLLLLLLLET'S DO A LOCATION JUMP)

 

Ray arrived at Michael’s apartment to find a rather disturbing sight—his best friend’s door was cracked open. That in itself wouldn’t have worried him but the lock looked like someone had gone at it with a vengeance: there were scratches all over it and the surrounding door, and if he wasn’t mistaken, that was a shoe right inside the foyer.

 

As he stood debating over whether or not to go in, he heard a cry from within, close enough that he could at least peek in and see if he needed to call the cops before he charged in with figurative guns blazing (because he cared deeply for his friend, but there was no way in hell he was going to be _that guy_ from the horror movies).

 

At first, it took him a little while to puzzle out what he was seeing—it looked like a four-limbed creature that was sprawled over Michael’s coffee table, writhing in what could possibly be pain. His brain tried to process what he was seeing as he wondered if maybe he _was_ going to be _that guy_ after all.

 

Then Michael groaned, “ _Fuck_ , Gavin…” and it all clicked into place.

 

Michael had Gavin bent over the coffee table, the Brit’s fingers scrabbling at the opposite edge as they sought purchase against the smooth glass. The blond’s pants weren’t even all the way off yet, just tugged down around his knees, and his shirt was rucked up to his armpits, though as Ray watched (and really, he couldn’t stop watching) Michael shoved it over Gavin’s head and let the Brit toss it aside. Michael, too, was still fully clothed, his own jeans pulled open and tugged down just enough that he could seat himself completely inside Gavin.

 

Michael’s mouth immediately moved to Gavin’s shoulder once his shirt was gone, and he pressed open-mouthed kisses to the blond’s skin, sucking and biting every once in a while to make the younger man yelp or groan between pleas. And oh, did Gavin plead—“M-Michael! Ah, fuck… p-please, Michael, move, I… I need—!” With a cry of frustration, Gavin gave up on trying to find his words and pressed his forehead to the table. Behind him, Michael smirked.

 

The redhead’s pace was slow and steady, clearly only meant to tease the both of them though the results were more apparent with Gavin. The Brit bucked back, wriggling his hips and reaching back to grab at Michael’s hip only to be stopped by a “Tsk, I set the pace, asshole, you just shut up and enjoy it. I know how to fuck you, baby, I know what you need.” The older man gathered up Gavin’s wrists in his hand and pinned them to the table, draping himself over the blond as he obligingly picked up the pace.

 

By now, Ray could hear the steady slap of skin on skin from his spot and he swallowed thickly, watching with rapt interest as Michael hooked two fingers over Gavin’s bottom teeth, growling something into the Brit’s ear that got a sob in response as the blond arched his entire body towards Michael. The redhead’s free hand skittered down the younger man’s body, tweaking a nipple playfully before nails raked down Gavin’s torso, leaving a trail of angry marks that made Gavin choke on his air.

 

Ray lost sight of that hand, but he could imagine where it went as Gavin wailed, his hands flying to whatever part of Michael they could reach, one fisting in red curls as the other moved beneath the table to, presumably, join the one on his cock. By now, the younger man had abandoned words, simply chanting Michael’s name (or close to it, but he was getting caught up mindlessly sucking at the redhead’s fingers) each time Michael drove into him, fucking into him so roughly that the table started skidding forward with each thrust, inching across the carpet as Gavin’s body was shoved against it.

 

The soft, private words Michael was steadily hissing into Gavin’s ear became clearer as the redhead approached orgasm. “—fucking love what my dick does to you, don’t you, Dickie? You were fucking _gagging_ for it when we got in the door, didn’t even let me get undressed, god _damn_ … I bet you think about me fucking you all day, j-just… fuck, just like I think about you, like this, on your knees for me and moaning like the cockslut you are—ahh…”

 

The redhead’s thrusts became erratic and a sudden, sharp cry from Gavin nearly made Ray gasp aloud, though Michael just smirked and did whatever it was again. It was apparent that whatever _that_ was was pretty damn good, because it only took seven more thrusts (not that Ray was counting, no, fuck you very much he was not) before the blond came with a choked wail. Michael bit down on Gavin’s shoulder as he found his own release inside the Brit, groaning a soft sentence that made the younger man smile weakly from his place collapsed upon the table.

 

Ray finally realized that he was _still_ standing there with his head poked in the door like some fucking creepy voyeur, and that the purpose of this visit was _not_ to see his two best friends star in a live porno, but for him to return Michael’s damned phone. Instead of interrupting the afterglow, though, he just pulled the door closed silently and left Michael’s phone in front of it, making sure to turn up the volume. It was probably safer to avoid the awkward conversation that was sure to follow, especially while he was sporting the most confused boner in history.

 

When he got back into his car, he sat at the steering wheel for just a moment before pulling out his phone, quickly tapping out a few texts, and driving away perhaps a bit more quickly than was absolutely necessary.

 

Inside the apartment, Michael heard his text tone from outside the apartment and swore. He assumed he’d just dropped the device in his and Gavin’s mad dash to get inside. “Be right back,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the nape of the Brit’s neck, but all he got in response was a groggy grunt. With a huffed laugh he stood and buttoned himself back up, picking up his phone from outside and checking the text.

 

_hey man im really happy for u and Gav, but…_

_maybe next time close the door all the way_

_or warn a bro because that is a sight i will never unsee_

_shoutout to deadbolts, am i right_

With a frown, Michael sighed, swore, and shoved his phone in his pocket. Maybe Gavin was right. Maybe it was time for them to come out—properly.

 

* * *

They should have seen it coming.

 

Michael had been nervous for weeks, jumpy and easily irritated, torn between staring at Gavin during every second of his downtime and avoiding him like the plague.

 

Gavin, for his part, had no idea what to think. He cornered Geoff one day with a wide-eyed, concerned look and hissed, “Did I do something? Is Michael angry at me? Has he said anything?”

 

“I don’t fucking know, man, he doesn’t tell me anything. Have you asked him?”

 

Gavin just stared at Geoff like he’d grown an extra head. “Geoff. Why would I ever do that? That’s why I’m asking you.”

 

At that point, Geoff promptly removed himself from the conversation, only saying, “Go fucking talk to him, dumbass, between him avoiding you and you sulking the Let’s Plays have become shitty,” as he walked back to the office.

 

It was another few days before Gavin worked up the nerve to approach Michael—and maybe it wasn’t really the best way, right before the filming of a Let’s Play, but the redhead had just done that thing where he looked at Gavin, sighed sharply, and jerked back around to face his computer. The Brit literally could not stand the tension anymore.

 

“Have I done something to minge you off, Michael?” Gavin asked, avoiding eye contact and instead looking down to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. The office got very quiet very quickly.

 

“What? No, why would you think—“

 

“You’ve not been talking to me is all, and I just wondered—“

 

“No, no, Gav, I… shit, I just haven’t known… Look, we need to talk.”

 

The silence became oppressive. Those were Death’s kiss to even the most stable relationship, and that’s precisely what they’d all thought Michael and Gavin had. In the year and a half they’d been together, the biggest argument they’d seen them have was over who was moving into whose apartment.

 

“LLLLLLLLLET’S PLAY!!!”

 

Ray’s sudden outburst made them all jump but started them talking again while Gavin visibly shook himself, trying not to look as frightened as he felt as he nodded, swallowed, and grabbed his controller.

 

Their hushed conversation lasted the duration of the video, only the occasional word making it to the forefront of conversation before it was swallowed back up by the other four—however, when Michael pushed away from his desk, tossing his controller down and getting up in Gavin’s space, the game was immediately paused, every one of them tensed and ready to hop to the aid of whoever needed it most.

 

What they did _not_ expect was for Michael to abruptly take a knee, hands shaking as he fished a box out of his pocket. Gavin looked gobsmacked, his green eyes wide and disbelieving as he tried to comprehend what was going on.

 

“Great, and now that it’s fucking quiet as dicks in here, I guess I’ll just come right out and say it. Gavin, you have been… the best thing that’s ever happened to me, including this job, which is kind of impressive because I love the shit outta this job. I’m not good with all this sappy shit, so sorry if this sounds dumb, but you are the reason I wake up in the morning. Whenever you go off to England I’m lost, and it took me actually sitting down and thinking about _why_ for me to figure it out. Not one of my proudest moments, but… Regardless, I don’t ever want to have to spend a day knowing that there’s some possibility that you won’t be mine. I don’t want to live a minute longer without you knowing that you are the single most important person in the goddamned world to me, bar none, end of story. I really had a lot more to say, but this is awkward as hell and it’s really nothing you haven’t heard me tell you already. I love you, Gavin Free. Will you marry me?”

 

Gavin was nodding before Michael finished his question, throwing himself out of his chair to tackle the redhead to the ground, his laughter infectious as he said, “Yes, bloody hell, yes, Michael, I really can’t say yes enough, yes, I will marry you, you silly little sausage--you never even had to ask.”

 

Jack was the one that started the applause but by the time word had spread (which took a grand total of 32 seconds) the entire office was gathered at the door, clapping and shouting their approval, phones and cameras at the ready as Michael slid the ring onto Gavin’s finger.

 

Yeah, they should have seen it all coming, but sometimes the surprise was the best part.

**Author's Note:**

> This seriously took me a week to write purely because omf writing smut is not easy. Sorry if it sucks haha
> 
> Also posted to http://heresthefuckyoubutton.tumblr.com/


End file.
